


Oshynn - Force of Life

by alex_greene



Category: Harn, Harnworld
Genre: Coranan, Ergath, Fyvria, Harn - Freeform, Harnworld - Freeform, Ivashu, Jmorvi, Lake Benath, Lyahvi, Odivshe, Peleahn, River Thard, Savorya, Shek-Pvar, Telen, shiran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29662323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_greene/pseuds/alex_greene
Summary: Oshynn awakens as a Fyvrian Shek-Pvar while she is travelling to Coranan from Shiran, along the Thard River in Harn. She becomes involved in Thardic politics and casts her first Fyvria spell at the Thardic quarry port of Telen.
Relationships: None





	Oshynn - Force of Life

'Oshynn?'

Oshynn felt, rather than heard, her name being called. She swam upwards through dark waters, feeling cool grey mist around her, which turned into tree roots and cold topsoil. She emerged from blackness through a vertical shaft cut into the soft loam, in which she could feel the pulse of life in every living thing, and a deeper, stranger, more elusive power behind that life force-

Oshynn of Llysgaled opened her eyes, and blinked. She had passed out on some sacks on the deck of the barge. She looked up at the face of Keliran of Horbin.

'Aunt Keliran,' Oshynn said, rising from the sacks.

'The same dream as before?'

'Yes, Aunt Keliran,' Oshynn replied. 'How long did I sleep for?'

'You slept but a few moments,' Keliran replied. 'We have almost completely loaded the cargo to take to Shiran. You must go back into the villa now, to collect your belongings. We depart soon.'

'Yes, Aunt Keliran,' Oshynn replied.

Keliran's town house was several leagues north of her home in Shiran, past the mouth of the Thard River and along the southern shore of Lake Benath. The villa was surrounded by the deep, primal Vulda Forest, and open at its northern flank to the great swathe of water that was Lake Benath, the largest lake on the island of Harn.

Oshynn ran across the manicured lawn towards the villa, where she collected the bundle containing her belongings, which sat at the foot of her bed, beside a stout staff and two neck pouches.

Oshynn opened the neck pouches and tipped out their contents into the palm of her hand. They were tiny bottles, one of smokey quartz, the other bottle green. Both contained some sort of viscous, swirling liquid.

As she came back into the vestibule, she heard a slithering sound to her left, and smelled a fishy odour. Crossing the chequerboard-tiled floor, she opened the ground floor door to the servants' quarters. In the empty kitchen, she saw the hukling, furry shape of Hool, sniffing at pots and pans.

'Are you hungry again, Hool?' Oshynn asked.

Hool turned to look at her with sad, bulging eyes. 'Yes, Mistress Oshynn,' he whispered. 'Always need food.'

Oshynn nodded. 'If Mistress Keliran catches you here, inside the house ... or worse, if Cook catches you ...'

'Going away again, Mistress Oshynn?'

'I am,' Oshynn replied. 'Going home.'

'Will miss you,' Hool said, crossing the kitchen, his webbed feet shuffling on the floor. They embraced affectionately.

'I always look forward to coming here,' Oshynn said. 'And I look forward to seeing you.'

'Thank you, Mistress Oshynn,' Hool said. 'Look forward to you.'

'Come on,' Oshynn said. 'Let's walk to the barge.'

* * *

Oshynn sat on the starboard aft deck, watching Hool and some other sleek-furred ergath in the water, dark humps rising and falling in the lake as they chased food.

The barge, _The Courtesan_ , had just cast off. Sailors were shoving off, and _The Courtesan_ was pulling away from the shore. Oshynn closed her eyes again, and instantly returned to the shifting grey darkness.

She felt around. Her hands connected with nothing. She was floating free. Oshynn felt as if she were caught in a web of connections, strands of possibilities extending outward in all directions. Where she was at this moment was somewhere in the centre, at the intersection of the six strongest strands.

When she opened her eyes, they had hardly moved. She could still see the ergath creatures playing in the waters of the Lake, in the wake of _The Courtesan_ , and the villa dwindling in the distance. The masts had been raised, and they creaked as the sails billowed and snapped, catching every scrap of breeze.

Keliran was nearby, and beside her stood the First Mate, Canna of Sarhend.

'The wind favours us,' Keliran said.

'Ilvir blesses our passage,' Canna replied. 'We are still on course for Parnan to trade, then we'll double back to Hediro.'

'Why do we stop in these villages first?'

'Oshynn, you know you shouldn't interrupt,' Keliran said, not unkindly.

'She needs to learn,' Canna said. 'We do our main trading outside of Shiran, to take advantage of the low bonding fees. We can sell this cargo at Parnan, knowing that whoever buys it will bring it down along the north road overland to Shiran. Whatever cargo we buy at Parnan, we can sell at Hediro, and they can bring it along the eastern bank of the Thard to cross over the Mandain Bridge.'

'Which means a toll,' Keliran said.

'So they charge more at Hediro, to cover the cost of the toll?' Oshynn said.

Canna and Keliran glanced at each other.

'I told you Arian's daughter was smart,' Keliran said.

'I learned the numbers from the Temple of Halea,' Oshynn said. 'How to count the coin and record their value on paper.'

'By Halea, did you, now?' Canna said, staring at Oshynn. 'Can you read, too?'

'In Sindarin, Harnic, Runic and Lakise,' Oshynn replied. 'I learned to read the markings on coinage.'

Canna chuckled, and looked at Keliran.

'She's not for sale,' Keliran replied. 'Though you could hire her services for a while.'

'I might take you up on that,' Canna replied, tousling Oshynn's short hair.

That night, Oshynn passed out again in her bunk aboard _The Courtesan_. Now, she sat in the centre of a three-dimensional lattice, with six bonds extending outwards from her to connect with something unseen to left and right, above and beneath her, behind and in front of her. Oshynn could not quite see what it was that the chains connected to; but the one to her left, a chain formed from green wood and roots, felt familiar.

She tasted the green chain. It tasted earthy, green, and vital, with a bottom note of decay.

Oshynn opened her eyes. She felt for the neck pouches about her neck.

* * *

'Each is a Mystery to be resolved. Each Mystery must be solved separately, and they are both unconnected and deeply connected at the same time.'

Oshynn looked up at the kindly face of a magician called Riffen, who had given her the vials to study. She had been studying them for months; and the odd dreams had been building slowly the whole time. It was only recently that the dreams had begun to occur to her during waking hours, causing her to pass out whenever she found herself experiencing an idle moment on her own.

There were answers to the Mysteries contained within the vials. Oshynn knew that those answers lay before her, as real as pain. The problem was that she had no idea what those answers were.

Oshynn touched the green vial to her tongue. And there it was - the first part of the answer.

The bottle tasted, to Oshynn's tongue, the same as the root - earthy, green, and vital, with a hint of decay.

She sniffed at the other vial, containing the grey - and caught an impression of coolness, like silvery mist through which the last moonlight of the night was shining. She felt the same silvery coolness as an undernote alongside the scents of decay from the green vial.

That night, she slept deeply, without dreams, the vials warm in her clenched hands.

* * *

The Courtesan offloaded its cargos of barrels of worreen liqueur, made from Orbaalese blueberries imported from across Lake Benath, and sealed barrels of Lake Benath sturgeon roe, and loaded bottles of Halean brandy in oddly-phallic bottles, along with packed bundles of resinous fletharane herb, some hexagonal bottles of something called "uhla oil" packed with straw, and a small crate containing four small bottles of something which Keliran called "dryad sweat," a perfume which she told Oshynn not to touch until at least five more summers had passed.

And then there were the crates containing bottles of a fluid which glowed and sparkled when she shook it. Each round bottle had an etched image of a winged being known as an Elmithri on it, and Oshynn was familiar with its sharp, salty, flowery flavour; any time she had come down with a fever in the filthy streets of Shiran, her mother Arian had fed her tiny drops of this glowing, sparkling medicine to help the child feel better.

While staying at Aunt Keliran's villa, she'd watched Aunt Keliran produce this medicine. Oshynn had watched Keliran crush tiny cakes of golden pollen, extracted from a plant called quessel, into a fine powder, which she'd mix with other ingredients into a liquid, drop by drop, until the fluid turned clear.

She had also seen Aunt Keliran produce this liquid from a white-glazed ceramic amphora with a conical base, which she normally kept in one of the rooms in her villa, on a stand of brass. That liquid came from the amphora without anything having been put into it first: Oshynn swore that this amphora had some sort of magic.

From Parnan, _The Courtesan_ doubled back along the Lake Benath coast until it reached the mouth of the Thard, where the barge turned towards the southern current, and Canna turned over the helm to a bonded pilot from Shiran who'd been navigating the Thard since she was on her father's knee.

The first major settlement on the banks of the Thard was Hediro, a smaller community than the fabled market at Parnan, but Hediro was _The Courtesan_ 's port of registration.

Captain Keliran took Oshynn along with her to the district capital building. Oshynn went along, one hands clutching at her vials, the other hand gripping a bundle of cloth which Keliran had given her to hold.

The bondmaster at Hediro was a fat, jowly bureaucrat with a feverish look on his face. Captain Keliran and Oshynn looked at the man as he wiped his runny nose on his sleeve.

'Oshynn, show him what's in the bundle,' Keliran said. Oshynn opened the cloth, to reveal a bottle of the medicine made from quessel pollen. As she proffered the bottle for the bondmaster to examine, she caught its scent from residues around the seal. This was the genuine medicine, but this had come from the amphora, and it had an overwhelming smell of magic.

'Take a mouthful,' Oshynn said. 'You'll feel the effect now, and you won't need to take another sip of this for a season.'

They watched as the bondmaster pinched his nose and took a swig. A few moments later, they saw the effect, as the bondmaster's fever visibly began to recede.

'It's yours,' Captain Keliran said.

* * *

 _The Courtesan_ , her cargo deck piled to the gunwales, pulled into dock at Shiran on the 6th of Azura, to prepare for the voyage to Coranan. Between Keliran's duties and obligations in the Senate, and their extensive negotiations with the dockmaster, _The Courtesan_ was not due to depart for Coranan until the 10th of the month.

This was more than enough time for Oshynn to visit her mother and bring her a gift for her birthday - another bottle of Elmithra, and a bottle of Dryad Sweat from Aunt Keliran.

Arian, by this time, was six months in to her second pregnancy. The courtesan looked tired when she answered the door to Oshynn, but her daughter quickly perked her up.

'You'll have a sister when you come back,' Arian said to Oshynn, after she had taken a swig of the elmithra to break the mild fever which under Arian had been suffering. Some of the elmithra spilled from the cup to the dirt floor.

'Do not worry,' Oshynn said, as she watched the drops of the precious medicine soak into the floor. 'There will be more where that came from.'

Oshynn offered Arian some herbs from a bundle which she'd bought at Parnan, some leaves which, when chewed, would ease the symptoms of pregnancy sickness.

'I think I heard news of Lord Kobar,' Oshynn said. 'He could be visiting Coranan to discuss further trade.'

'If you see him,' Arian said, 'tell your father, the father of your sister, that I will be here for him when he comes back to Shiran.'

'I will.'

'Tomorrow, my sweet Oshynn, will be your birthday,' Arian said, caressing Oshynn's hair.

'I know,' Oshynn replied.

'I have not been well enough to leave my home,' Arian said, sadly. 'I do not have anything for you.'

'Worry not,' Oshynn said, opening a small pouch into Arian's lap. 'Today is your birthday, and I have something for you.'

The single flawless emerald was the size of Arian's palm. It had been cut and faceted. Even indoors, it seemed to fill the room with its green radiance.

Oshynn and Arian embraced.

* * *

At midnight on the eighth of Azura, Oshynn was at home with Arian, discussing birthdays.

'I had you at midnight on the eighth,' Arian said, listening to the bells ringing distantly. 'The day after my birthday. Both our birthdays are on the cusp between the sun signs Nadai and Hirin – The Salamander, and The Eagle.'

'Where did you learn about sun signs?' Oshynn asked. 'Most people never learn much about sun signs unless they are soothsayers, Shek-Pvar or priests.'

'I invited a Savoryan Shek-Pvar to take tea with me,' Arian replied. 'He paid for this house.'

'Was that Uncle Colto from Golotha?' Oshynn asked.

'He's not your uncle,' Arian replied. 'He thought he could take without paying, and he paid for it.' She frowned, and drank her herbal tea. 'We are well rid of him.'

Oshynn paused, her drink halfway to her mouth. She looked at Arian.

'My sister is about to kick,' she said.

'How do you - ohhh,' Arian said, her hand shooting down to her midriff. 'I felt that. How did you know she was going to kick?'

Oshynn finished her drink. 'I could feel her moving, preparing to kick.' She frowned. 'I cannot say how I know. I just ... knew.'

Her eyes closed. 'I feel dizzy,' she said. 'I need to sleep.'

Oshynn fell into the blackness of night.

* * *

Deep in the blackness, with the grey energies surging about her, Oshynn struggled to orient herself. The energies flowed around her chaotically, uncontrolled, battering her soul and sending her spinning off in random directions. Oshynn struggled against the wild buffeting, spiralling inward, flailing in the dark, with no apparent way to stop it.

A sudden sense of peace opened within Oshynn. The world still spun about wildly; but she looked around, and saw that the world was tilting and spinning about madly all around her - but that she herself was perfectly still.

Anchored.

Oshynn suddenly realised what was anchoring her to her place - her mind. Her will.

Her will was the key to understanding the web of chains, in particular the chain of green which she now saw extending to her left.

Oshynn reached for, and touched, the green chain - and saw that it was already connected to her.

'Of course,' she said to herself, 'because my body is full of this force of life.'

And then she tugged on the chain, and found herself moving along it, feeling the connection strengthening within her. The green was like a fire, a force, which could destroy a fortification with tree roots, which could punch a soft mushroom through six inches of stone, and which could turn an entire civilisation to a forest in less than a hundred years.

She felt the green force pulsing between mother and baby in the womb, in the owl outside as it hungered and hunted, and in the doomed mouse as it expired within the owl's claws.

She felt the life, and its power, and reached for it, and grasped it.

* * *

Oshynn opened her eyes, and groaned. Arian was looking down on her, awe and concern on her face. She helped Oshynn get up. It was only then that Oshynn realised that she was lying on her bed.

'What happened?' Oshynn asked.

'I could ask you that,' Arian replied. 'Your head hit the table, and then all manner of strangeness happened.'

'Strangeness?'

'Let me show you.'

Arian took Oshynn into the main room of the house. Oshynn gasped. The floor was packed dirt overlaid with rugs, and now grass flourished underfoot, penetrating the weave of the rugs' coarse fibres. Some poppy seeds, which had spilled to the floor from bread they had eaten, had grown into thick-stalked, tall poppies, their heavy flowers white, black and purple.

A cluster of seventeen small plants, a few inches high, bearing bright yellow flowers, caught Oshynn's eye. 'Those came from the drops of elmithra that spilled,' she said. 'That's quessel.'

'Harvest them now,' Arian said, 'and deliver them to Derlian Street, in Old Town. Sell them to Elaz of Pelon. He will try to tell you they're worth a few pennies, but you can tell him their worth - 408 pennies, and not one penny less, or you can take them to Lashta of Frisel instead. She would salivate at the chance to undercut Elaz. And tell him who your mother is, and that I know that his son Garik, the Fyvrian mavar, would be disappointed if he didn't get the chance to study live quessel.'

Oshynn looked at her hands. 'Did I do this?'

Arian nodded. 'All by yourself. You are a Shek-Pvar, my daughter.'

* * *

'You drive a hard bargain, Oshynn of Llysgaled,' Elaz said, as he looked at the quessel plants laid out on the counter of his workshop.

Oshynn smiled. 'My family has power,' she replied.

Elaz looked at her. 'And so do you. Did you encounter any Shek-Pvar recently?'

'Apart from Garik? One, in the Spring. Riffen of Sharis. He said that he came from Coranan.'

'I didn't know that there were any Shek-Pvar Chantries there,' Elaz said. 'I know that there is a Chantry of Arcane Lore, and one of the master arcanists there is known to me. Savaze and I correspond regularly.'

'Savaze?'

'An arcanist from Berema,' Elaz said. 'I'll fetch some money for these,' he said, pointing to the quessel plants, 'and then I'll send for a scribe. There are many letters to write.'

* * *

Arian stood on the dock, hugging Oshynn tightly to her. Behind her, _The Courtesan_ was ready to set sail. Captain Keliran stood on the dock a short distance away, watching the exchange between Arian and her daughter.

When they parted, and Oshynn picked up her kit, Keliran put her hand on Oshynn's shoulder. 'I'll get her to Coranan,' she said.

Arian nodded, her eyes brimming with tears as Oshynn and Keliran headed up the gangplank onto _The Courtesan_.

* * *

Between Shiran and Telen, Oshynn had little time for meditation. There was much work to be done; and _The Courtesan_ 's crew went about it quietly, efficiently. Oshynn spent the first day scrubbing the deck, and slept deeply in her little bunk that night.

On the second day, Keliran gave Oshynn the day off to meditate. She had little choice - birds and fish seemed to cluster around _The Courtesan_ , their attentions firmly fixed on Oshynn wherever she went, like iron filings drawn to a lodestone. As long as she meditated, sitting on a small wooden block in the stern of the little talbar, the wildlife seemed to ignore Oshynn; it was while she was not meditating that she seemed to be attracting the local fauna.

Late in the day, some of the crew asked Oshynn if she could step to the foredeck of _The Courtesan_. As she went forward, the fish followed her - right into some nets which the crew had rigged on either side of the boat. That night, the crew dined on carp, trout and Lake Benath sturgeon. Captain Keliran and First Mate Canna dined on caviar.

The effect had faded by the following day, when _The Courtesan_ put in to the village of Peden to trade. Oshynn quietly carried out her orders, and meditated quietly when she wasn't on duty. The crew spent a few hours in their usual inn in Peden, but Oshynn stayed on the boat, meditating.

In the morning, Captain Keliran awoke in her cabin, nursing a throbbing headache. The crew was returning to _The Courtesan_ , similarly hung over. The hot sun overhead did not help. Oshynn had awoken with the sun, looking disgustingly healthy and bright, and was coiling some loose rope with a steady hand, handling the heavy hawsers as skilfully as a veteran Abel Rate.

A stranger came up _The Courtesan_ 's gangplank. A Khuzan, beardless, with short, curly blond hair. They were barefoot, and wore a lightweight, short-sleeved tunic and dark blue pantaloons. The Khuzan carried a small leather knapsack.

Captain Keliran approached the newcomer. 'And who might you be?' she asked.

'My name is Mohan Tiwari,' said the Khuzan. 'I request employment. I wish to join _The Courtesan_ as a member of her crew.'

'What skills can you contribute, Mohan?'

'I can scrub the decks,' Mohan replied.

'I have a deckhand who can do that already,' Captain Keliran said, pointing to Oshynn.

'But she has to get down to the deck to scrub it,' Mohan replied, 'and I'm already down here.'

The crew giggled, as Captain Keliran bristled. 'My crew are handpicked,' she said to Mohan. 'I select women only, because I need a practical-minded, hard-working crew. I also avoid selecting men, for the same reason that farmers don't employ foxes to guard the hen house.'

Again, the crew giggled. Mohan kept his gaze steady as he looked up at Captain Keliran. 'I am very quick, and steady on my feet,' he said. 'And I am also debt-free. No creditors waiting for me at every port, looking to cause trouble.'

'That's also good,' Captain Keliran said, 'but you still haven't convinced me to bring you aboard.'

'Well,' Mohan said, 'there is one thing ...' He gestured, and Captain Keliran knelt to hear what Mohan whispered in her ear.

After a few seconds, Keliran gasped. 'Is this true?'

'Absolutely,' Mohan replied.

Keliran stood, and beckoned for Mohan to board.

Once Mohan was aboard, Keliran gestured to the stevedore on the dock to cast off. A fair wind from the East was blowing, and Keliran ordered a quarter sail to take _The Courtesan_ away.

* * *

From Peden, _The Courtesan_ sailed gently along the Thard river, with the Shiran road ambling along beside it, roughly paralleling the course of the river. Oshynn performed her duties, and meditated in the quiet periods Captain Keliran gave her.

From the river, they could see a small caravan of Night People being harassed by a patrol of Legionnaires from the Coranan Legion. Some way down the road, they spotted a group of Ilviran pilgrims, clad in green and brown, foraging for food in a meadow on their way to the mouth of the Thard at Lake Benath. They had a long way to travel, if they were to reach Ochrynn Abbey at the far end of the lake before winter set in.

The road became a low, narrow embankment, approaching its terminus at an impressive stone town wall. On either side of the embankment, the ground was an impassable bog, buzzing with insects under the hot sun. Past the boundary wall, Oshynn could see the tops of the turrets of a citadel – a fortification which she could see more clearly as they rounded the corner, leaving the road behind.

Captain Keliran began barking orders for the crew of _The Courtesan_ to bring her into dock. Oshynn got up. Time to get below decks. They had reached Telen.

* * *

First Mate Canna approached Oshynn below decks.

'Captain wants a word with you,' she said. 'She has a task for you to perform in the town while we're here.'

Oshynn followed Canna topside. Keliran was on the deck, watching a team of grunting stevedores as they hauled a cargo pallet aloft with a creaky wooden derrick mounted on the dock. She carried a large leather bag in her hand.

'You wanted to see me, Captain?' Oshynn asked.

Keliran looked at Oshynn. 'I need you to deliver some letters today,' she said. 'I'll tell you where, and to whom, to deliver them. Pay attention to what I say, and commit my instructions to memory.'

'I shall,' Oshynn replied.

'First of all, you must find Trantor of Irdime, a mercantyler.' She produced a letter, bearing Keliran's seal. 'Hand him this.' She fished around in her bag, and produced another letter. 'Something for Quanton of Oisin.' She produced one more letter, which she handed over to Oshynn. 'And this one's for his sister, Lyss.'

'Where will I find these?'

'If they're at work, you'll find Trantor at his office,' Keliran replied. 'Go through the gate, turn right and go along Corthir Way, running along the inside of the dock wall.'

'Understood,' Oshynn replied. 'And Quanton and Lyss?'

'The other end of town,' Keliran replied. 'Back down Corthir Way, and head up Lobir Street.'

'Elaz had a letter for me to deliver, in Shiran,' Oshynn said. 'Where would I find Jelen of Krunos?'

'Tel Square,' Keliran said. 'That'll be the big square with all the soldiers being put through drill.'

* * *

Telen was busy, crowded, and stinking in the hot sun. Oshynn followed Keliran's instructions, heading up along Corthir Way. The dock wall gave shade against the heat, but the huddled figures sitting in the shadows quickly put paid to any temptation to sit in the cool.

She heard someone call out Trantor's name, off to her left. A door opened, and a black-clad man emerged from a door nearby.

'Your Uncle Hesed sends his regards,' said the stranger. 'He sent me to ask if you are available to dine in his company tonight.'

'I'd like that,' Trantor said. 'Send the message back to him that we can meet in front of the Mangai Hall tonight, at sundown.'

'It shall be done,' the man said. 'I'll inform the Senator at once.'

Oshynn watched as the man walked back down Corthir Way. She felt Trantor staring at her, and turned his gaze back towards him.

'I bear a note for you,' Oshynn said. 'I am from _The Courtesan_ , which has pulled into dock.'

'Keliran's little talbar,' Trantor murmured, breaking the seal and opening the letter. He scanned it carefully, tracing the lettering with his finger. Then he nodded, and looked at Oshynn.

'Tell the Captain that I shall be along shortly, to inspect my cargo,' Trantor said, fishing in his belt pouch for a coin. 'This is for you, child. Thank you. Now run along.'

* * *

Neither Quanton nor Lyss were available at their place of work. A shaven-headed assistant informed Oshynn that they had been called out to Tel Square to treat an injury.

A crowd had gathered around the edge of Tel Square to watch the goings-on. A man and a woman tended to an injured Legionnaire. A sword lay on the sand-strewn ground of the Square, and a flurry of yelled invectives was coming from the opposite corner of Tel Square, as a furious drill sergeant lay into another guard.

A man emerged from a doorway halfway down the row on Oshynn's left. Behind him, two assistants rushed behind him, carrying what looked like medical supplies. Oshynn approached the three.

'Not sure what much else I can do at this stage,' said the treating physician. 'Have you got what I asked for, Jelen?'

Jelen, the man who'd emerged from the door along with his assistants, nodded and beckoned for those assistants to approach. 'Right here, Quanton,' Jelen said.

'I can help,' Oshynn said to Quanton.

'I don't know how,' Quanton replied. 'Unless you can find me a needle and thread, and some hot, clean water.'

Oshynn looked around. Nearby, two women had emerged from their workshops. Oshynn saw bolts of cloth on a table, and earthenware pots decorated with floral designs. ''I'll see what I can do,' Oshynn replied.

* * *

'You've been gone a while,' Keliran said, when Oshynn returned to _The Courtesan_. 'Where did you go?'

'I found everybody I needed to find,' Oshynn replied. 'I also helped save a life.'

Keliran's eyes widened. 'Do tell,' she said.

* * *

That afternoon, Oshynn watched the dockside activities from the deck of _The Courtesan_. Nearby, a derrick winched a consignment of Telen limestone and marble onto a barge. Keliran was on the dock, negotiating with Trantor, who had arrived to inspect his cargo. A cart stood on the dock, ready to take the consignment. As Oshynn watched, she felt a change in their emotions. Relief, and satisfaction. Keliran and Trantor shook hands vigourously, and Trantor gestured for labourers to come forward to begin loading up the cart. Keliran made her way back up the gangplank, grinning broadly, clutching a large, heavy-looking leather pouch in her hand.

Mohan approached Oshynn. 'Telen stone is among the finest on Harn,' they said. 'I've seen some decent stone, including Glenoth's blue basalt, but the limestone and marble quarried from here are prized back home by my old Clan.'

'And where are your people?'

'Azadmere,' Mohan replied. 'I am somewhat of a disappointment to them, you know.'

'How so?'

Mohan took a step back. 'Look at me,' they said. 'I am not a typical Khuzan in my appearance.'

'I would not know,' Oshynn replied. 'I had not met any until you.'

'Appearances aside, then,' Mohan said, 'I had more of an aptitude for alchemy and the arts of the apothecary than the crafts of masons or metalsmiths.' They sighed. 'My father wanted me to learn the fine arts of Jmorvi, but I showed no aptitude to that Shek-Pvar Convocation whatsoever.' They smiled sadly. 'So I wander, seeking a Shek-Pvar who can teach me some sort of Convocation. Any Convocation.'

Oshynn nodded. 'I can understand that,' she said. 'What is the difference between Fyvria and this ... Jmorvi you speak of?'

Mohan paused for a moment. 'How much time do you have?'

* * *

'From what I know,' Mohan said, 'the Shek-Pvar have a common philosophy: all things, elements, processes, phenomena, stem from various elemental Principles. All Life comes under the banner of the Fyvria Convocation, all forms of metalworking and stoneworking comes under Jmorvi, and I only know the names of the others - Odivshe, Peleahn, Lyahvi and Savorya. I only know their names - I do not know what they study.'

Oshynn nodded. 'You said that all life comes under the banner of Fyvria,' she said. 'I know of a Shek-Pvar, Riffen of Sharis. He gave me a puzzle to solve, and something happened when I discovered the answer. Was that Fyvria?'

'It seems that way,' Mohan replied. 'Every Shek-Pvar is a student, pursuing their own studies. It seems that there is only so much that can be taught - every student of Pvarism has to learn through their own studies.'

Oshynn nodded. 'So,' she said, 'when Riffen gave me my puzzle to solve, the one which led to my becoming a Fyvrian, was that supposed to be normal?'

Mohan shrugged. 'I would not know,' they replied. 'I have not met my Riffen of Sharis to teach me anything.'

Oshynn nodded. 'Perhaps you will,' she said, 'if you come with me.'

* * *

The following morning, Keliran approached Oshynn as she coiled rope on the deck.

'Oshynn,' Keliran said, 'may I ask another favour of you?'

'Anything, Captain,' Oshynn replied.

'I need you to take some documents into Telen for me,' Keliran said. 'A letter, and an important piece of paper. I need you to go and see someone called Gysem Nordaka. We've had dealings with him before. He knows someone very powerful in Telen, and more importantly he's been able to arrange for me to meet with that person. I won't say who.'

Oshynn nodded, sensing tension in Keliran's stance and expression.

Keliran pressed two soft leather scroll cases into her hands. 'Go,' she said, her voice low and hushed. 'You'll find him at the Hall of the Mangai. Be discreet. And be careful, too. He's a good friend of Vorgas of Korson. Vorgas is a dealer in slaves.'

* * *

Legar Gysem Nordaka was a young, clean-shaven man with brown eyes. He looked at the scrolls in Oshynn's hand. Oshynn caught a momentary look of calculation in Gysem's eyes – one she'd seen before, in the eyes of a corrupt dyer in Shiran who'd kidnapped Oshynn's mother Arian in an attempt to force Oshynn into working for him.

'This comes from Keliran,' Gysem said, looking at the scrolls in Oshynn's hand. 'I took her to see a person. Did she give you the name of that person?'

'No,' Oshynn replied.

'He's called Vorgas of Korson,' Gysem said, the calculation returning behind his eyes.

'Try again,' Oshynn said.

Gysem felt his nose dripping. He rubbed his nose, and gasped when his hand came away bloody.

'Take me to the right person,' Oshynn said, quietly, 'or the next thing that starts bleeding will be your eyes.'

'He's .. he's in session at this moment,' Gysem said, trying to stop up his nose. Blood was gushing down his face. He gestured for an assistant to fetch him a cloth.

Once the bleeding had been stanched, and his face cleaned, Gysem changed his tunic, glowering at Oshynn as he changed. Once he was ready, he stood before her.

'Come on, then,' Gysem said.

* * *

'You'd think that business at this level would be conducted at Telen Palace,' Gysem said to Oshynn. Oshynn looked to the rotunda standing in its own grounds, just south of the Citadel.

'He isn't there, then?' Oshynn asked.

Gysem shook his head. 'He conducts his business, and his horse trading, in his private villa. We've got a walk ahead of us,' he added. 'Come on.'

They walked up along Arosta Way past the Citadel, crossed Medak Square where a Laranian priest was arguing with an Agrikan priest just outside the Laranian church, and pushed on ahead. Just up ahead was a high fence surrounding a square building, standing in its own grounds, surrounded by reeds.

'Osprey Lake is past the villa,' Gysem said. 'It used to be part of the Thard, but the river changed course and the lake got cut off. The place breeds midges like a plague in the summer.' He slapped the back of his neck.

'I wouldn't know,' Oshynn replied, smiling. 'Maybe they don't like my blood.'

Two legionnaires stood guard at the entrance. Gysem nodded, and the guards opened the gate in the fence to let them in. The courtyard was pleasantly cool, though noisy with conversation in the south.

'The hall is down there,' Gysem said. 'He's holding session. He's the Magistrate around here, and this is his court.'

They pushed their way in through the crowd. A bench had been set up in the space. A man stood in the middle of the room, facing another man, wearing a red cloak, who was sitting on the bench. Sombre-looking older men sat on low stools on either side of the man in the red cloak. The standing man who was facing them had his hands manacled behind his back. A guard held the standing man with a stout chain. More guards stood in the corners. A small public gallery of civilians stood reverently in the hall, near the door.

'This man, Yorin of Husinn,' said the man in the red cloak, 'must be found guilty of the inappropriate public display of rank - a silver ring bearing an amethyst on his right hand, and a red cloak.' The blond prosecutor looked to the elder statesman. 'Several very reliable witnesses can corroborate that they indeed saw this man in a public square, and that he, while impersonating someone above his station, fraudulently accepted bribes from three merchants, promising them contracts which were beyond his status to fulfil.'

The audience gasped.

The statesman glanced at the legars on either side. Their grim expressions told him everything he needed to know. He turned his piercing gaze towards the cowering Yorin of Husinn.

'Seizure of all your titles, lands and properties,' he said, 'and a period of indenture of no less than five years.' He glanced at a burly soldier who stood in the corner of the room. 'Take him away.'

Oshynn watched the guard lead Yorin away.

Gysem caught the statesman's attention. The elder nodded to his cohort. 'Recess,' he rumbled. The legars filed out of the room past Gysem and Oshynn. The guards then cleared the room of all but Gysem, Oshynn and the statesman.

'Come over here,' said the statesman.

'Magistrate Nordaka,' Gysem said, 'I have brought someone to see you.'

Magistrate Nordaka peered at Oshynn. 'Indeed,' the Magistrate said, in a deep voice. 'Who might you be, child, and what business brings you to me?'

'I am Oshynn of Llysgaled, of Shiran,' Oshynn replied. 'I am part of Keliran's crew. We pulled into dock yesterday.'

'Ah, _The Courtesan_ ,' said the Magistrate, chuckling. He looked at Oshynn. 'She calls me by my first name, Amerak, you know? I like her.'

I have been tasked by Captain Keliran,' Oshynn replied, 'to bring these two documents to you, Magistrate.' She presented the scrolls to Amerak. 'Please do me the honour of accepting these documents, Magistrate Nordaka,' Oshynn said.

Amerak took the scrolls from her hands. He unfurled one, and gasped as he saw the seal. The second was a tightly-furled promissory note, which he accepted gratefully enough - but his eyes were drawn to the seal on the first document, and his expression became one of awe.

'This is good news for me,' Amerak said. 'The money helps.'

Oshynn caught a glimpse of the seal, and smiled as she recognised the personal seal of Magistrate Serenima Dethale, Amerak Nordaka's counterpart in Shiran. That, and the promissory note, suggested that a very important document had just changed hands.

'Your Captain must know some _very_ important people,' said Amerak Nordaka, looking at Oshynn. He furled up the scroll and set it aside. He looked at Gysem. 'If you breathe a word about any of this,' he said, 'I won't care if you are my nephew. Your body will feed the fish in the Thard. Do you understand me?'

Gysem nodded, the terror showing in his eyes.

Amerak looked at Oshynn. 'Your duties have been discharged,' he said. 'For obvious reasons, I cannot thank your Captain. Let's just say that any debts she accrues here, this visit, will be forgiven by the time of her departure. Now go, and do not look back, little girl from Shiran, and I do hope you understand that my warning applies to you, too.'

'I understand,' Oshynn said.

As she left, Gysem peered at her departing back. The look of calculation had returned. He muttered but one word. 'Witch.'

* * *

Back on board _The Courtesan_ , Oshynn sat in Captain Keliran's cabin, sipping a clear herbal tisane with the Captain. Evening was drawing in, and the crew was turning in for the night.

'Did you follow orders?' Keliran asked.

'As best I could,' Oshynn replied. 'I avoided asking any questions, and left as quickly as I could.'

'Good,' Keliran said. 'I didn't question Merele when she handed the documents to me. I didn't want to know who handed them to her. All I know was that she must have made a promise to some Senator in Shiran to transport the scrolls to Telen, and to bring them to the highest authority in the town.'

Oshynn nodded. 'In that case,' Oshynn said, 'that task has been completed.'

'Good,' Keliran said. 'Someone back home will probably receive a lucrative contract in due course. Best not to ask who or how.'

Oshynn sipped her tisane, and said nothing.

There was a knock at the door. Keliran crossed the cabin to open it.

'Sorry to bother you, Captain,' said First Mate Canna, 'but part of our food supply may have spoiled.'

'What?' Keliran said. 'Show me.'

Canna brought Keliran and Oshynn up onto the deck. A barrel of fish had been cracked open, its contents reeking.

'Is everything else down below secure?' Keliran asked.

'All squared away,' Canna replied. 'None of the cargo, or any of our supplies, have been harmed. We caught this in time.'

'Good job, too,' said Keliran. 'Very well. Take it to the dock and dump it somewhere. Give the alley cats something to eat.'

A flash of movement from the dock caught Oshynn's eye. She looked around with senses other than sight and hearing. She could feel minds moving with purpose, converging on the boat. Oshynn looked around for Mohan's mind. She connected with it, and realised that Mohan was already aware of the stealthy movements of the approaching men - and they'd already done a quick head count.

More than twenty lightly-armed, unarmoured, black-clad men were converging on _The Courtesan_. More men were swimming downstream, presumably to catch the crew of _The Courtesan_ by surprise.

'Captain Keliran,' Oshynn said, quietly. Keliran and Canna looked at her. They caught her expression. Keliran's own expression hardened. She gestured towards Canna, who drew in breath to sound the alarm.

'Don't,' Oshynn whispered. 'Just get the crew belowdecks, now.'

Canna glanced at Keliran, who nodded. Canna moved gracefully into the lowering dark to alert the above decks crew, one at a time.

'What about you?' Keliran asked.

'I'm the one they're after,' Oshynn replied. 'A pet Fyvrian Shek-Pvar? I'd be a fine catch for the slave markets.'

'What are you going to do?' Keliran asked.

'Stay above decks,' Oshynn replied, glancing at the barrel, 'and convince them to make other plans.'

'What must we do?'

'Stay below,' Oshynn replied, 'and cover your mouths and noses.'

And with that, she and Mohan were the only two crewmembers above decks.

'I don't know what you have in mind,' Mohan said. 'I hope it's enough.'

Oshynn looked at the barrel of spoiled fish. 'I think it will,' she replied.

* * *

Gysem gestured to his men. The first unit was to gain access to the talbar aft; the second was to head for the foredeck. He had a third unit of expert swimmers in the Thard river, waiting to catch anyone who sought to jump into the river for safety.

'You're not getting away, witch,' Gysem muttered. 'For sure, you'll fetch a pretty price in the slave market.'

He threw his grappling iron over the gunwale. It held. Gysem clambered up the side of the talbar, and joined his men on the deck.

And he froze. There was but one person on the deck - the witch. And before her was an open barrel of some sort.

'You said I was a witch,' Oshynn said, her voice straining. 'Very well. Behold my witchcraft.'

She gestured. The barrel in front of her began to rumble and squeak. As Gysem watched, the barrel's contents began to bubble. From its liquefying, putrefying interior rose a great, green cloud, which began to spread outward from the barrel in all directions; a dense, vile cloud of choking fumes.

All around him, Gysem could hear the sound of his men coughing and retching as the vile plume of miasma overwhelmed them. He heard anguished cries from the men in the water, as the cloud seeped over the gunwales and sank, to spread over the Thard like a putrid mist.

Then the mouldering reek finally reached his nose. His brain and stomach rebelled. Gysem doubled over, his eyes streaming, his trembling stomach ejecting its contents forcefully onto the deck.

He could barely command his men to retreat. Not that he needed to - they were already leaping from the deck of _The Courtesan_ into the waters of the Thard, to join the other men swimming to safety.

A breeze rose, clearing the air slightly. Ahead of him was the witch, looking at the barrel, whose fumes were now beginning to diminish. Gysem drew his knife.

'Never mind the market,' he muttered. 'This witch must die -'

The sudden impact in his side caught him by surprise. It knocked him sideways, over the gunwale and down to a cruel, hard impact on the stone below.

* * *

Oshynn opened her eyes and looked up. She'd heard cries of anguish, nausea, retching, and splashing sounds from the river. But her concentration had been broken by a sudden snap, followed by a solid thud, and a groan of pain, followed by another loud impact - the second, being far more final.

She looked through the now-dispersing green miasma cloud. Mohan stood a short distance away, a strip of cloth covering their mouth and nose, holding a discharged crossbow in their hands.

'He looked like someone who wouldn't take no for an answer,' Mohan said, lowering the crossbow. 'He won't bother you again.'

'Thank you, Mohan,' Oshynn replied. 'Now let's dispose of this barrel before people start to ask questions.' She took a step forward. Her legs felt unsteady. She looked at Mohan. 'On second thoughts ...' she said, before collapsing to the deck.

* * *

'It looks like exhaustion,' Canna said to Keliran, as they looked down at Oshynn's unconscious body. 'That spell may have drawn a lot out of her.'

'I suspected as much,' Keliran said. 'Thanks for keeping an eye on her while she was in town.'

'I tracked her, right up to the point where she entered the Citadel,' Canna said.

'And I picked up her trail, once your First Mate lost her,' Mohan said, from beside Canna.

Canna nodded. 'I did wonder whether Oshynn had found the right man. Gysem looked like the sort who'd sell his own daughters to the slave markets for a bottle of wine.'

'She found the right man,' Keliran said. 'He got the letter to Magistrate Nordaka without having to go through that annoying bureaucracy.'

'What will you do, next time there's a message you need to send to the Magistrate? He might be displeased at us for killing his nephew.'

'Nobody on the crew did,' Keliran said. 'I paid a mercenary to look after our cargo.' She looked at Mohan. 'The guard was on watch when Gysem boarded the ship. In the fight, Gysem lost his life while committing a crime. Riverine law says that the Captain of her vessel has the right to repel boarders with deadly force. Thardic law backs this up - nobody wants to have their precious cargos stolen, after all.'

'So, no repercussions?'

'I didn't say that,' Keliran replied. 'I've no idea whether or not Amerak will seek vengeance against Oshynn. If she comes back this way, she had better be very careful in Telen.'

'I suspect,' Mohan ventured, 'that by the time she comes back here, she may well have so much power that she won't even notice the Nordakas.'

'What became of the body on the dock?'

'I went down to the dock,' Mohan replied, 'and pushed it into the drink. He'll be miles downriver by now. Nobody'll even miss him.'

'So,' Canna said, 'what next?'

'We sail at dawn,' Keliran replied. 'On to Coranan.'

**Author's Note:**

> Copyright © Alex Greene
> 
> Based on Harnworld by N Robin Crossby, Kelestia Publications and Columbia Games, Inc. Original characters are copyright © Alex Greene. All properties belonging to the respective publishers are copyright © Keléstia Productions Ltd. and Columbia Games, Inc. All rights reserved.


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